Peeta's Story The Hunger Games
by amandagrace427
Summary: The Hunger Games from Peeta's point of view. ;D
1. Chapter 1

I wake up early tonight after a restless sleep. I am tired from staying up tossing and turning all night worrying about the reaping. Of course, I don't have much to worry about, seeing as my father the baker doesn't need me to submit my name too much for extra tessarae. However, I can't help wondering who would be chosen as the tribute for the Hunger Games this year. The year before the last, it was my best friend's sister.

I remember watching the TV screen in horror as the Games started. That year, the arena was built to be a desert, with exotic and laboratory bred animals more vicious than a tiger. I remember sitting with my best friend while we sat frozen, eyes glued to the TV, watching his sister slowly starve to death. Normally, watching the Games didn't affect me; the tributes that died were all just nameless faces, but that year it seemed more real. I actually knew her, she was a kind and giving girl, who used to make me porridge whenever I visited. It wasn't until those Games that I realized how cruel the Capitol was for making us watch our loved ones die.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I drag myself downstairs to the bakery, where I can already smell the scent of fresh bread being baked. My father is, as always, cheerful, and greets me with a bright smile.

"Morning, son!"

I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm as I say, "Morning! Do you need any help?"

My dad sighs and smiles. "That would be so nice. We're going to have a lot of business today. Everyone will want to have fresh loaves of bread to feast on after the reaping."

As he said that, my gloomy pensive mood of before returns. I wonder which families will be unlucky enough to have their children torn away. Tonight, the whole town will be feasting and celebrating besides them.

I quietly help my dad get ready to open shop, kneading dough and putting the bread into the oven. As I finish with my last batch, I heardthe familiar clop clop of feet down the stairs, followed by a sharp and rather nasty voice.

"Peeta, you forgot to make your bed!"

"Sorry, mother." I reply, then hurry back upstairs to go make it.

Behind me, I can hear my mom muttering, "What a useless child!" to my dad. Way to make me feel loved.

I'm sure my mom means well, but she's just so different from my sunshiney dad, and it bothers me sometimes. He's rather chubby and always happy, never seen without a smile on his face. He has light blonde hair, like me and clear green eyes. Mom, on the other hand, is stick thin, with sharp, angular features and dirty blonde hair. I inherited my piercing blue eyes from her, but thankfully, not her personality. She is just so uptight I feel suffocated by her sometimes.

Tidying up my room, I glance at it once more to make sure that it is impeccably clean, then head back downstairs to help my dad. Making loaves of bread for the poor, baking cookies and frosting cakes for the wealthier, I fall into my daily routine.

Around noon, my mom is happier than I have seen her for a whole year, counting up the money we have earned. The shop is extremely busy this afternoon, bustling with the poor and wealthy alike. As I help my dad bake enough loaves to meet everyone's demands, I habitually scan the shop for the one person I was hoping to see.

Unfortunately, she never comes in. I wonder what her family will be eating tonight. She's so self sufficient, but I had hoped she might have come in to buy at least a loaf. I guess not.

My friend Braedan walks into the shop, closing the door behind him. People are slowly emptying out as it gets nearer and nearer to the reaping. After awhile, Dad hangs up the "closed" sign, and we all get dressed in our best attire.

After dressing myself in a nice black suit, I walk with Braedan down to his house, which is above the butcher's shop. He's the one whose sister was killed in the Hunger Games two years ago. All that could be heard in his house is silence.

"My parents left already," he says with an edge in his voice. "I guess they didn't want to be with me in case I get drawn in the reaping."

I try to comfort him. "Come on. I doubt you'll get drawn. We are less likely to be chosen than those coal miners' kids, who have their name entered tens of times."

Braedan just shrugs. "My sister got drawn."

I try to ignore his bluntness and the steely edge in his voice. Normally I am good with words, they just flow out of me, but for some reason, I feel rather awkward right now.

I help him close shop and we walk out towards the Justice building in silence.

A crowd has already formed, and we go to join the pale faced children who are shaking in fright. I catch a glimpse of a dark brown braid, and make to walk towards it, but before I have taken two steps, the girl with the dark hair has already disappeared.

Music blares over the speakers, giving this ceremony an entirely false feel. I feel like I am on some sort of sick game show, where innocent and naïve people are purposely misled.

A woman with vivid hair stepps up to the podium and begins trilling in her loud, obnoxious voice. What a weird accent she has! I tune her out during her speech, trying to disregard her piercing voice. The only part I care about is the reaping.

When she finally finishs saying her speech, I turn my attention back to her, as she dramatically draws a name from the entries. I hold my breath and pray that none of my friends would be sucked into the horror of the Games. As she unfolds the paper with a flourish, she announces a name that makes me sigh with relief. "Primrose Everdeen."

I watch as a petite blonde girl blanches, walking tipsily up to the stage. I can't help feeling sorry for her and her fate. What I don't expect is for a girl with dark brown hair, woven back in a braid, to step forward and say, "Take me instead. I'll take her place."

My relief turns to horror as I realize who has just volunteered herself- Katniss Everdeen.

–

A few announcements:

Yes, this story is up on Wattpad, but I decided it makes for a better fanfic. But if you wanna vote for me on Wattpad, you can always check out .com/user/amandagrace427 nudge nudge wink wink ;)

Also, as I announced on Wattpad, I'm not following the book format entirely, I'm changing the dialogue a bit and stuffs to make it a lot more interesting :D


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the bad bad bad not agreeing, present and past tense, grammar. I was tired. But the other chapters are a lot more tolerable, I promise.

She walks up bravely to where the Capitol lady is, but I can see her quivering, her jaw tight and fists clenched as she looks upon the blonde girl. Without noticing it, I find myself pushing through the crowd, trying to reach her. I am close enough to hear her whisper to the blonde girl, who was now crying and clinging to Katniss.

"Prim, it's okay," she whispers out of the corner of her mouth, her steely expression never changing.

I slap myself mentally. Prim was Katniss's sister. I had totally forgotten. And of course, Katniss would volunteer to take Prim's place in the Games. She was just so protective of her family it was probably instinct for her to do that.

I watch as she stands stoically, never betraying any sense of fear. She looks so fierce today, her eyebrows knit together as she surveys the crowd with an intense glare. I barely register the Capitol lady's tinkling voice as she began speaking again. What would Katniss's family do without her? She was the one that kept everything together, feeding them and keeping them clothed. Without her, everything would fall apart. Not to mention that she is the girl I love.

Through all my years, so many memories of her stick out. I remember in particular one day, when we were sitting in history class, and she was gazing out the window, smiling inwardly to herself. We were both 10 at the time, but she seemed wiser than all of our grade, with her strong personality and willingness to speak out. Suddenly, she frowned, and without a word to even our teacher, she jumped out of her seat and ran out the door. Our whole class curiously watched through the window as she ran to her little sister, who had apparently hurt herself while playing with her friends. Katniss knelt by her, hugging the poor little girl until she stopped crying. She then kissed her sister on the cheek and marched back to class, seemingly unaware that she was in big trouble. It was acts like this that show her true love for her family, that she would give up her life for them in a heartbeat.

I am pulled from my reverie when someone calls my name. Looking around, I realize that all eyes are averted from me. Then I hear my voice again, in a perky voice that makes me freeze in fear.

"Peeta Mellark!"

I have just been drawn as a tribute in the Hunger Games.

My feet seem to move independently of my brain, which is frozen in fear. I stumble up to where Katniss stands. I still can't seem to comprehend what is happening. As I gaze over the crowd, everyone seems to blend into one person, mocking me for my bad luck.

The Capitol lady begins to speak again, and I feel more annoyed than usual when I hear her happy voice. "Shut up." I whisper, but of course, no one hears me.

I feel eyes boring into the back of my head, and I look up to see Katniss staring at me. She gives me a sad smile that barely reaches her gray eyes and then turns away. She sighs, and I wonder what she is thinking about.

With shock, I realize the truth of this situation. There could only be one champion, which meant that I would have to kill her, or she would have to kill me. My decision was instantaneous; I would let her kill me. I vow to myself that I would protect her and keep her safe. I promise myself that I she would come out of the Games alive.

As the reaping draws to an end, the crowd begins to mill around restlessly. The lady from the Capitol, who introduces herself as Effie, signals for me to shake's Katniss's hand. We swiftly exchange a quick handshake and she looks away awkwardly. I wonder if she felt the spark that I felt when our hands touched. I doubt it, though. Rumor has it that she's dating her friend Gale.

At the thought of his name, I can't help but feel jealous. He has it all- good looks, brains, and skill. Meanwhile, what am I? Just another pampered brat. I wish I could be as talented as him to go hunting with Katniss everyday.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Katniss waving sadly at someone. I turn around to see who she's looking at. Gale.

We are escorted into the Justice Building after the reaping. It is finely decorated and I can't help wondering why the Justice Building can afford such luxurious decorations. However, despite the lavishness, I feel constricted and the great hall seems to reek of the smell of mildew.

I follow a Peacekeeper into a giant room, with an ornate wood table and an overstuffed couch. I can't help but feel resentful towards the Capitol as I look at these luxuries we were never allowed to have. I sit in silence and glare at the guard pointedly until he leaves, standing outside the door.

I hear shuffling down the hallway and muted voices, then my parents step into the room. I can hardly believe what I am seeing- my mother, my uptight, emotionless mother, is weeping. She runs over to me and sobs on my shoulder. "Oh Peeta! Oh Peeta!"

I can't help but feel a little awkward and unintentionally push her away, which makes her cry even harder. "I can't believe I was so mean to you this morning! I'm so sorry." She's acting like I've been sentenced to death, which I essentially have.

My father steps forward, and I can't help but notice a change in his demeanor. He is usually so cheerful and happy, almost bouncy, but now he seems to have lost his energy. His forehead is crinkled with worry and his shoulders are sagging, as if someone has put heavy weights on him. I embrace him, and I can feel him shaking, trying to control his dry tears.

Feeling guilty, I walk back over to my mom, who is drying her tears on the tapestry. I make a mental note not to let the government know that she is defiling their property. She sweeps me up in a hug, and still sniffling, she pulls a long chain out of her pocket. "For you," she says.

It is a heavy gold locket suspended on a chain. I have seen it before, once or twice. It is a treasured family heirloom and when I take it, it just doesn't feel right.

I hand it back to Mother. "I can't do this," I say, which makes her cry even more. Finally, I give in to her protests, and put it on, which seems to calm her down a little.

The guard comes in and leads my hysterical mom out, while my dad follows, giving me one last long, searching look that makes me feel empty inside.

A trickle of visitors come in to see me- Braedan and some of my other friends as well as one of my teachers. They all wear the same mask of grief and I silently wonder how Braedan will deal with this. Within two years, he'll have lost his sister and his best friend.

Time seems to pass too slowly as the visitors come in to apologize for my bad luck, but the last thing I need is their sympathy right now. I just want to be alone, but they don't understand that their pity just makes me feel worse.

Finally, the guard shoos the remaining people out and says that it's time to go. I stand up and follow him numbly outside to the trains tracks. I seem to have left my heart behind in the Justice Building as I ascend the steps to the train. I take one last sweeping look of District 12, and then the train starts, whisking my life away from me.


	3. Chapter 3

I can't help but let the tears fall as District 12 fades into the distance. Stepping into a compartment, I instantly feel suffocated by the dim lights and low ceiling. I have never felt claustrophobic before; I am a people person, but somehow, squashed in the corridor, I feel like the breath is being squeezed out of me,

I am ushered into a room in the middle of the corridor, which is more lavishly decorated than the room in the Justice Building. It is spacious and roomy and a lot less constricting than the narrow hallway. I even almost feel relaxed in it until I remember that it is my prison. I cautiously walk around, examining the room. It is painted a deep blood red and reeks slightly of wine. On the nightstand, there is a vase of roses, their petals wavering in the breeze coming through the open window. Shivering, I walk over to the window and close it, drawing the gold and red tapestries over it. Just watching the landscape whizzing by makes me want to throw up.

I open a few drawers and find fancy clothes, bright vivid colors, and decorated with lace and embroidery. I see a yellow shirt with sleigh bells sewn into it and can't help but laugh at the Capitol's eccentric sense of style. Opening another drawer, I find clothes more to my taste, their colors muted and less conspicuous. I pick a black shirt and some comfortable jeans and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

As I open the door, I stop in surprise. The bathroom is decorated, covered in marble and granite. The sink has two gold taps and I laugh in glee. I turn the one with the red ruby embedded in it, and turn it. Hot water rushes out, just as I thought it would. In District 12, the only hot water we'd ever had was in the shower, and even then, it was limited to less than an hour a day.

After a refreshing shower, I slip on my clothes and pace around my room. I have nothing to do, so I pull out the gold locket my mom gave me and open it. A piece of tearstained paper falls out, and I recognize the writing of my mother. Cautiously, I open it. Somehow, I don't want to know what this piece of paper says.

"Peeta- I do not know how to begin this because words just can't express my sorrow or grief. I am not a woman of many words or emotions, and I know it will be hard for me to tell you this as I say my last goodbyes. But I want you to know that even if I stand emotionless while I say my last goodbyes, I am secretly dying inside.

My heart broke when your name was called, and I hated the Capitol for ripping you away for me. You brought joy into my life, and you were always there to give me optimistic thoughts. After you were drawn, your father had to rush me home, for I had collapsed on him. Both of us were weeping with grief, as I wrote this letter to you- my last goodbye.

I hope you keep this locket and read this letter before going into the Games. I hope this gives you hope and helps you survive the trials you are about to endure. Battle through it, for if you are the Peeta I know and love, your sunny personality will help get you out of this alive.

I love you.

-Mom"

I stare at this letter, shocking registering through me in waves. It is so unlike her to do anything caring and compassionate. Her words spread grief through me like flames, and I instantly regret holding a grudge against her. I feel tired all of a sudden, and fall onto my bed, sitting back up when I hear a crinkling sound. I peel back the covers to find another note in my bed. It is addressed to me, and the writing is in an unfamiliar, heavy hand.

How many other surprises would this day bring?

I unfold the note and see that it is short.

"Take care of Katniss for me." is all it says, and instinctively, I know who wrote it- Gale.

I cannot explain the waves of hate that roll over me. Perhaps it is jealousy, or maybe the events of today have left me mentally unstable. The thought of Gale having been in this room disgusts me, and now everywhere I look, the furniture seems to be tainted. I do not know how he snuck in, perhaps through the window, but all I know is that I cannot stand staying in this room any longer. I crumple the paper and throw it at the door in rage.

It almost hits Effie, who has just opened the door.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" I scream at her.

She retreats and says "Dinner's ready" in a meek voice.

I instantly feel bad for yelling at her and quietly follow her into a large room with a wooden table in the middle. Set upon the table are porcelain plates with gold on the edges, and my face inexplicably breaks into a smile. Am I bipolar? All I know is that I'm on the verge of insanity.

Effie leaves the room, to go fetch Katniss, I suppose, and I look up, surprised at what I see. The ceiling is painted in vivid colors to imitate the sky. The blues all blend together, and for a second, I feel free, like a bird about to fly (as cliché as that sounds...)

The artwork decorating the tops of the walls were also stunning. They were all separate paintings, little squares pieced together to form one large border. I saw a painting of a lady holding a child with a halo, of a little girl playing with some flowers, of a mysterious lady, all reminders of a civilization long gone. The pictures all seemed to be living and breathing, and I wondered in amazement at how they got their realistic feel. If I ever make it out of this mess, I might just try painting as a hobby.

My musings were interrupted by a loud crash, as a male voice shouted out in pain. Without thinking, I ran out of the room.

–

sorry for the mistakes and typos, I literally wrote and uploaded it

xox amanda :)


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of his scream still echoes in my ears as I run into the hallways. My mind is silently arguing with itself. Since when did I become so heroic? Or screwed up? He has stopped screaming, so I cannot tell where he is. I resort to frantically kicking doors open, until I come across a room where everything is strewn across the floor. A man is lying on the bed, unmoving.

I rush over to his side, my heart beating fast as if I've just been in a fight, and shake him. "Please be alive! Please be alive!" I whisper to myself.

He turns over and I breath a sigh of relief. Apart from a rapidly swelling bump on his head, he seems to be okay. He is unkempt and his appearance reflects the state of his room- messy. With a ruddy face, shaggy beard, and stained clothes, he looks like the stereotypical drunk. I recognize him now, he is Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor from District 12. I can't help but look at him contemptuously as he slobbers all over me. Then I remember everything that he's had to go through, and I decide that it's not his fault he's such a mess. I still wish he was a little more sober though. After all, he is the only mentor I'm going to get.

He groans and attempts to shake me off. "I'm armed!" He grunts.

I laugh and say "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Peeta Mellark, one of the tributes."

He surveys me with watery eyes, then turns around with a huff and plops down on his bed. "Good. Night." he says, and turns off the light.

Alright then. That wasn't weird at all. I walk back towards the dining room, thankful that he isn't hurt. I still can't get why I tried to play the hero though. This Hunger Games thing is really changing me.

Back in the room, everything is silent. There is food on the plates now, and it all looks so mouthwatering, with steam wafting up in spirals. It smells so good, like the feast we get only once a year. In the golden goblets, there is a rich brown liquid with a smell so appetizing I want to drink it right away. However, I restrain myself and wait for the others to arrive, staring back around the room.

After what seems like decades of mouthwatering torture, I finally hear footsteps and Effie's characteristic voice. She sounds so giddy that I wonder if she is drunk. She stomps into the room, with Katniss following quietly behind.

Even now, Katniss still looks suspicious, as she glares around the room. I stand up and smile at her, and see a flicker of something cross her face. She smiles at me, with an unreadable expression in her eyes and sits down.

I waver by my seat, wondering if I should talk to her or not. Finally I make up my mind and scoot closer to her. She looks at me suspiciously, then looks down at her plate.

I stretch out my hand and say, "I'm Peeta."

Cautiously, she extends her hand and says, "Katniss," shaking my hand jerkily.

We both avert our eyes and settle into an awkward silence, which is fortunately broken by Effie. "Dinner Time!" she announces, clapping her hands like a little child. I look at her pink curls bouncing up and down and wonder how oblivious and sheltered she is.

The dinner is absolutely delicious, and I am so full by the end of it, I feel lazily content. Effie walks us into another room, where we plop down on the sofa in front of the TV. I already know what we are about to watch when the TV turns on- a rerun of the reapings. Ours will be shown last.

We watch silently as we see who our opponents are for the first time. So many of them are big and opposing, and others look so sly and tricky. I wonder how I will ever help Katniss get out of this alive.

Katniss. She is sitting so close to me, I can feel our knees touching, and I try to ignore the electricity I feel radiating from her. Still, it's so hard, and I finally give in and look at her. Her jaw is set, and there is a steely glint in her eyes as she watches the screen. The intense look never leaves her face, and I wonder what she is thinking. She looks so beautiful like this, like a courageous warrior preparing for battle. She almost reminds me of those Greek and Roman statues we studied on History Class. I can't help thinking that she looks like a goddess. If she feels my gaze on her, she shows no sign of it, and continues watching the reapings with indifference.

I turn my attention back to the screen as the announcer says "District 12!" in a silly Capitol accent. First, it shows Prim being drawn, and Katniss striding up to take her place, desperation written all over her features. The camera then shifts over to her shaking sister and mother, hugging each other and crying. I look back over at Katniss, but she shows no emotion and just clenches her jaw tighter. I know what is coming up next- my reaping. Effie pulls out my name, and then the camera pans over to my shocked face, giving this an almost comical effect. Of course, no one hops onstage to take my place as I stand there shivering. I can't help but notice that I look so much more scared than Katniss and internally slap myself for not showing more courage. Then the camera finds my parents. My dad is dragging my hysterical mom away from the crowd, tears streaming down her face. I cannot believe it. I have never seen my mom lose control like this, not even when she said goodbye to me in the Justice Building.

Effie switches the TV off and looks at us, saying "Now off you go!" in a cheerful voice that pierces my mind.

I walk off blankly, forgetting to say goodbye to everyone. My mom's horrified face is still frozen in my mind as I push open the door to my room and open the locket she gave me. I feel on the verge of crying, so I crumple on my bed, the stench of the roses filling my nose, mingling strangely with the smell of wine. I hate the Capitol for doing this to me.


	5. Chapter 5

The darkness envelops me, and I feel like I can't breathe. It is a heavy blanket, constricting me, and locking my feelings inside me. I feel paralyzed in fear as my mind replays my reaping over and over again. I am so tired that I am lulled into a restless sleep.

I wake up suddenly and find that I have been tucked into bed by someone. I stretch out and stare blankly at the ceiling and try to go back to sleep, but I can't. My mind is swimming with unwelcome thoughts. I wonder what is happening in District 12. Hopefully my mom has stopped grieving.

I have only seen her show her compassionate side a few times, once when she left me in the Justice Building, and another time when I almost died. I was around five or six then, playing catch with my friends in the street. We had heard a very important person from the Capitol was coming to visit, and we were all dressed in our best. Braedan threw the ball a little too far, and I rushed into the street, bending down to get it just as something called a car turned the corner. I remember seeing bright lights shine into my eyes as I looked straight at it, and next thing I knew, I was in a coma. My brain was fuzzy, but I remember that day clearly. I woke to the sight of my mom standing over me, worried out of her mind. In one hand she held a towel for mopping my head, and in the other she held my hand. When my eyes fluttered open, she bent over me, kissing my forehead, and gasping in relief. "Thank goodness you're alive!" she kept whispering.

As I reflect on this, I realize why she has been so strict with me lately. She never lets me out of her sight because she doesn't want this to happen again. She doesn't want to lose me, but by some sick twist of fate, she's lost me again. And this time, I really will die.

I sigh as I sit up in bed. My mind is clearer now, and I'm not as panicked as I was yesterday. I'm turning back into myself again as I try to think optimistic thoughts. However, as much as I rack my brains, I cannot think of much that makes me feel better.

I slip out of bed and turn on a lamp. The smell of the roses really sickens me, so I take them to the bathroom, wrap them in tissue, and throw them out. Much better. I crinkle my nose as I realize the room still slightly reeks of alcohol.

The light of the lamp is dark and throws ominous shadows on the blood-red walls. I decide the room really creeps me out at night, so I open the door and step into the corridor.

Outside, everything is still merry and there is loud noise even though it is probably the middle of the night. I wander into a room and find Haymitch up and about. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are bright red. He must be drunk again. Next to him, Effie Trinket is giggling as she watches some meaningless show about fashion on the TV. A few other people that I don't recognize are playing cards.

Effie notices me lingering by the door and pats the seat next to her. "Here, Peeta. Want to watch Panem's Next Top Model?"

I not to laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. "Um, I'm fine. I'll just... leave." Not like there's anything for me to do here.

Her face falls and she looks slightly disappointed as turn on my heel to leave. I turn back around, struck with an idea. "Effie, can I go exploring?"

She nods a hasty yes, her eyes glued back to the TV screen.

I walk down the corridor, pushing open doors. Everything is so boring, and every room seems to be the same. I accidentally walk into Katniss's room and mutter to myself, "They really need to install locks on these doors." She looks so peaceful that I slip out quietly, careful not to disturb her.

I reach the end of the corridor and push open the last door. Strangely, it won't budge. I look down and see why- there is a keyhole. Why is this door the only one that is locked? My curiosity gets to the better of me, and I push harder on the door, determined to find out what is inside. My mind swirls with idea and possibilities, most of them outrageous.

"Peeta," someone says from behind me, "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

I jump in surprise and turn around. Haymitch is standing there, looking as drunk as ever. I look around, sure that he is about to lecture me, but instead he just shakes his head and offers me a beer. I smile and shake my head no as he lumbers away into a room nearby.

I walk slowly back to my room and slip onto my bed. It is almost morning now, and I can see a tiny sliver of the sun shine through my window. I try to fall back asleep, but I can't. I'm thinking too hard about that forbidden room.

My conscience and common sense tells me to drop it, but my mind is already trying to figure out how to get in. I remember a long time ago when my friend Darren taught me how to open a lock with a paper clip. Maybe I can do that.

My mind fights an internal war with itself and I say to myself, "Curiousity killed the cat."

I laugh as I realize the irony of the situation. I'm going to die anyways, so why does it matter?

I really don't know where this cynical side of me is coming from. Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow, I will find a way to see what is really inside that room.

* * *

Okay, so I know some of this may not be that good, and there will be parts in the near future that aren't that good, but trust me they get better :)

also, if you want to read ahead, you can always go to /user/amandagrace427 I currently have 12 parts uploaded or you can just wait for it to be uploaded here;)


	6. Chapter 6

I wake up to a loud chirping noise, and the sunlight is streaming from in between my curtains. It is so bright that it blinds me and I reluctantly push myself off the bed. I recognize what the chirping noise is now- Effie's voice yelling at me to get up. "Up, up, up! Today's going to be a big day!"

I can't help but surpress a groan as I press my pillow to my face. Unfortunately, this doesn't block out Effie's voice. Walking over to the dressers, I find an outfit to wear. I decide that today, I will wear something outrageous just for the fun of it. I'm already starting to feel more like myself.

I pick out something that I'd never wear in real life- a striped purple turtleneck shirt, and pair it with sweatpants, then stride out the door.

Inside the dining room, Katniss and Effie are already seated. I'm surprised to see Haymitch sitting at the table, with a bottle in his hands. I notice Katniss crinkling her nose as she looks at it. "Morning!" I chirp, and all eyes turn to me.

Effie's eyes open in excitement, as she gushes over what I'm wearing. "Oh my gosh, Peeta! I knew you'd always find your sense of style!" I ignore what she says because I'm too busy studying Katniss's expression. She is laughing, smiling and carefree, as she stares at what I'm wearing. I strike a pose, as she cracks up even more while Effie claps and squeals in delight. It's been awhile since I've seen Katniss unguarded and laughing like she is now.

I walk over to my seat, and everybody calms down. Katniss leans in with a smirk and says, "I hope you don't think that actually looks good on you!"

I'm not entirely sure if she's joking or trying to insult me. "Of course not! If I actually wore this in front of my mom, she'd disown me!"

Katniss's eyes are twinkling as she laughs with me. Breakfast arrives, and she seems to gather herself. She turns around and looks back at me rather suspiciously. What did I do wrong?

We begin eating in a rather uncomfortable silence, while Effie chats with someone on the phone, and Haymitch downs another glass of a foul-smelling liquid. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Katniss shovels food into her mouth, not looking the least bit embarrassed. That's one of the things I love the most about her- she's not scared to be herself. The other girls I know would probably be staring at the food in disgust right now, saying meaningless things like, "I'm so fat!" I'm just glad Katniss isn't as superficial as that.

She picks up a gold goblet and peers into it cautiously. She looks so funny, glaring at the cup. Then she prods it with her fork, frowning as a brown liquid solidifies on it.

I start laughing at her expression, and she glares at me. "It's called hot chocolate," I snigger, "it's really good, too"

She surveys me like she thinks I'm trying to poison her and I lose it again. She turns away haughtily and takes a little sip of the drink. She obviously likes it because she tips the goblet back and drinks the rest of it before going back to her food.

"How do you know that was safe to drink?" I ask her jokingly. "With the looks you were giving me, I might have poisoned it!"

"Shut up," she says, then slaps my arm lightly.

I spend most of my morning playing games with Katniss. As childish as it sounds, it's the best way we can entertain ourselves. She is still rather guarded with me at times, and sometimes I see a flicker of emotion cross her face, though I don't know why. I'd like to think it's because she actually has feelings for me, but I know that it is not very likely.

We are playing a pointless card game similar to Blackjack as we tease each other about things long forgotten.

"Remember when you almost set the school on fire?" she jokes, and I groan. I try to suppress unpleasant memories, and obviously, this is one of the said unpleasant memories.

"It's better than when you threw worms at the teacher because you got mad!" I say.

She slaps me on the arm. "Go away!"

"You don't really mean it, do you?" I tease, and wink. "Everyone loves being with me."

She blushes and huffs. "Ugh!" She throws her cards down and says, "I gotta go," then leaves.

I don't know if she's just bipolar or if I'm somehow irritating her. Why does she seem to have a problem with me? I sigh and get up from the sofa, stretching. My back aches from sitting in the same position all day.

I wander outside, wondering how I'll spend the rest of my day. Then I remember- the locked room! I run down the hallway until I find the place I'm looking for- the office. I quickly grab a paperclip and stealthily sneak back to the forbidden room. Crouching down to face the lock, I unfold the paperclip and stick it in, jiggling slightly.

I hear a door close nearby, and I jump in fright. No one seems to be around, so I resume picking the lock. After less than five minutes, I hear a click, and the door opens of its own accord. They really make it too easy for us to access this room. I walk in, expecting something scary or marvelous to pop out, but nothing seems different about this room.

It has a musty odor, and everything seems to be covered in dust. I look around and am startled by what I see. Weapons, hundreds of them. Knives, javelins, arrow, swords, any sharp pointy object you can think of.

The door closes behind me and I stiffen, as a familiar voice says, "Well hello, Peeta."


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, so this chapter might piss some of you off, so I'll explain it after you read it :P

I slowly turn around to face the voice. It is one I'd know anywhere. The voice that tears me apart with jealousy and anger for no apparent reason. I thought I had Katniss all to myself now, but apparently not.

"Hello, Gale." I whisper.

He is standing in front of another door that I previously failed to notice because it was made to blend in with the wall, painted gray with weapons covering the surface. I feel waves of jealousy roll off me as I look at him and wish I were more like him- stronger, more handsome, and more talented. He strides toward me, his eyes emotionless, as I back up slowly.

His eyes bore into me and he smirks. "I trust you got my note?"

"What note?" I ask, playing innocent.

He obviously sees through my lie because he steps toward me menacingly, and is suddenly right in front of my face. "Listen," he whispers, our noses almost touching, "Katniss is like my sister and if anything ever happens to her that is your fault, I'll make sure you never get out of the Games alive."

He is really starting to bother me now. "Are you sure she's your SISTER? Because last thing I heard, you thought of her as more than that!" I smirk, trying to irk him.

He seems to struggle incoherently for a second before he glares at me and corners me against the wall. "I would do ANYTHING for her," he growls.

This is too fun, and he's making it way too easy. I smile at him angelically and say, "But you don't want me being too nice, do you? Because she might just fall for me."

Instantly, I regret saying this, but it's too late. Gale already has me in a headlock. Who knew he could be so violent? I choke and sputter, finally managing to punch his arm, just as Haymitch strolls in. Crap. I'm in so much trouble.

He surveys the room, taking his time before his eyes finally land on us. He seems so nonchalant, and I realize that it's the first time I've seen him without his beer. He actually looks quite lonely without it.

"Peeta, I thought I told you not to come in here," he says, not acting the least bit mad. He is so strange sometimes. He then turns to Gale. "And I thought we discussed that you weren't to go beyond your door."

I look down in shame, as Gale mutters something that sounds strangely like "This here dumbsack came in so I thought I'd teach him a lesson."

He huffs and strides angrily back to his door, giving me one last glare before addressing Haymitch. "You can't tell him anything, you know. It's against orders."

This sparks my curiosity. What are they hiding? Haymitch just rolls his eyes and waves Gale away. He impatiently gestures for me to leave the room and hurries me into a hallway. "No questions," he whispers tersely, "Not yet."

He pushes me into his room and I gag at the smell of something rotting. My mind is teeming with questions, but the only thing I manage to get out is "What the heck was that all about?"

He looks at me sadly, then sighs. "You heard Gale, I'm not supposed to talk about it. Just don't go around telling anyone what you saw. Please." He seems worried.

I nod, still not understanding. "But why was he in there?"

Haymitch stands up and starts pacing the room. "How do I explain this?" he mutters to himself. Finally, he looks straight at me and says, "the Capitol thinks that room is boarded up because the furniture and roof are unstable. They're too stupid to even check to see if we're lying, because they're selfish, easily scared people. No one is to know Gale is staying in the room, and no one is to know the contents of the room. Please?" It all comes out in a rush.

I pretend to consider it, while he watches me appraisingly. "Fine," I say, and he relaxes. "However, I do have one condition..." He looks up as I continue. "You have to help Katniss get out of the Games alive."

He looks surprised as I go on. "No matter how injured I am, if she needs help, help her first." He frowns, and I say "Deal?"

He takes my hand. "Deal," he says, giving me a swift, hard glance.

I walk down the hallway, thinking about what I just saw. Honestly, it wasn't as dramatic as I thought it would be, and I am slightly disappointed. I still can't help wondering why Gale is here though. I push the thought out of my mind as I hear someone singing, and I marvel at the beauty of the song.

Of course, I know who it is- Katniss.

Running to her door, I knock on it, and the singing immediately ceases. The door opens a crack and I can see her face peer out. "Peeta," she says. "Hi... What do you want?" I'm not sure if she means to sound annoyed with me.

"Was that you singing?" I ask.

She blushes and says, "Yeah. It's a song I learned a long time ago from my dad..." She trails off, obviously lost in thought.

"Well I was wondering if I could listen to you sing or something- I mean, I don't have anything else to do- Not that your singing is my last resort- I mean..." I say, tripping over my words and blushing.

She surveys me, as if debating whether or not to say yes. Finally, she sighs and says, "I guess," disappearing behind her door.

I clear my throat. "Um, wanna let me in?" I ask.

"Just come in already!" she says, sounding both amused and annoyed.

I push open her door further and see her sitting at a desk, writing or drawing something that I can't see. I perch on the edge of her bed and look around shiftily, not knowing where I should look or what I should do.

She begins singing as I lie back on her bed. I feel so relaxed, like I could stay in this position forever, listening to her voice.

–

kay, so I know Gale wasn't the best choice for who to be behind the door, and it probably doesn't seem logical. I was going to do Haymitch, and I wrote a whole chapter where Haymitch finds Peeta, but I just hated it and it sounded stupid.

So for those of you that undoubtedly will think "what in the dang heck is Gale doing here? It makes no sense!" it's supposed to tie in with what happens in Mockingjay... just think about it and maybe it'll make sense.

This is so ruining my grades, just fyi.

xox


	8. Chapter 8

I drift off lazily as Katniss sings a beautiful song. She is truly amazing, with a fiesty personality, good looks, and a voice of an angel. She seems to forget that I am in the room, as she crouches over her desk doing who-knows-what. In her presence, with her voice surrounding me, I feel totally at ease and at peace with the world.

Too quickly, it seems, that peace is shattered, as Effie's piercing voice announces that it is time for lunch. Katniss stands up, stretching like a cat, and turns around. She is about to walk out the door when she sees me and jumps backwards, startled. "Why were you listening to me, you creeper?" she asks. I'm not quite sure if she's teasing me or if she's genuinely mad so I apologize quickly and follow her out the door.

Once we're in the hallway, an uncomfortable silence lingers. I grin and say, "Besides, you're the one who let me in, don't you remember?"

She ignores this comment and walks faster, while I hurry to catch up with her. As we walk into the dining room, we almost collide with Effie, who is walking out the room talking rapidly on the phone.

To my surprise, Haymitch is sitting at the head of the table. I avoid looking up because I can feel his gaze boring holes into my back. In my haste to rush over to my seat, I accidentally trip over another chair and land on the ground. Haymitch guffaws and Katniss grins, breaking the tense silence.

I stand up, blushing and pull out my seat, then tumble to the ground yet again. I have somehow managed to sit on empty air, which causes Haymitch to laugh hysterically. Katniss is quiet and looks down at her food, but I swear I see the corners of her lips twitch into a smile. Brushing myself off, I hastily sit down- ON the chair this time- and begin eating quickly.

The food is delicious, as usual, but Katniss doesn't seem to enjoy it much. Normally, she stuffs her face right when she sits down, but right now her face is contorted into a twisted expression. I wonder what she is thinking. She glares up at Haymitch, who is still laughing drunkenly, and I realize what's making her mad.

He continues guffawing while downing mouthful after mouthful of beer, until she slams her fork down and says, "So you're supposed to help us." The insolence in her voice shows plainly, but Haymitch doesn't seem to be bothered by it. He studies her quietly and then takes another drink. "Well?" she demands. "How about some advice?"

He takes a deep breath and his face becomes serious as I lean in to catch his words. He clears his throat, about to same something important. "Here's some advice," he says, "Stay alive." With that, his serious expression breaks and he begins laughing. I feel a wave of resentment towards him, and secretly curse my luck for having the worst mentor possible. I catch Katniss's eye, and she gives me a knowing look.

Haymitch keeps on laughing, and suddenly I am very annoyed. This is a matter of life and death, and he's treating it like some game. Before I know it, I strike the bottle out of his hand and it cracks, spilling its contents all over the floor.

He frowns at me uncertainly, then punches my left cheek. I prepare to lash back, but before I can, a knife lands on the table, inches from his hands. Katniss's doing, of course.

He frowns and reaches for another bottle of beer. "Would you look at that? I actually got a pair of fighters this year." Before I can blink, something whizzes through the air and knocks the alcohol out of his hand. He curses under his breath.

I look over at Katniss and she is breathing hard, resentment radiating from her eyes. "You. Will. Not. Treat. This. Lightly," she says, punctuating every word. "Other people might have put up with you being drunk and refusing to help, but not us."

He surveys us warily over his fingertips, sizing us up. His eyes are still watery and red, but now they look more focused.

He sighs and addresses Katniss, "Can you throw that accurately all the time?"

Instead of answering, she picks up a knife and aims it at the wall. It flies directly into the seam between two panels. How did she do that? I look at her curiously, but she's too busy smirking at Haymitch to look my way. He looks impressed and nods approvingly.

"Get over here," he says, gesturing to me. I get up to join them and he scrutinizes both of us. I feel rather uncomfortable and Katniss probably does too, judging by her tense posture.

Haymitch looks up at us. "You guys seem pretty fit. With some fixing up, you might just look good enough."

"Gee, thanks." I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice because what he says is true. We have to look nice enough that people want to help and sponsor us.

Everything is silent as all three of us look at each other. "I'll make you guys a deal," Haymitch says suddenly. "If you don't try to restrict my drinking, I'll make sure to stay sober enough to help you."

I figure it's the best deal we're going to get, and obviously Katniss thinks so too because she nods her head curtly.

"You're going to have to do anything I say, even if you don't like it." Haymitch reminds us.

He looks in in the eye, and I turn away quickly. Somehow, the fact that he's helping me actually makes me more nervous. It's like I'm finally fully understanding the severity of my situation.

Katniss looks at him thoughtfully, then says, "Okay, you promised to help us. So when we get to the Cornucopia-" she falters as everything goes dark.

–

boring chapter? I know, sorry -_-

please give me feedback! ;)


	9. Chapter 9

"Why is it so dark?" Katniss practically squeals, her voice at least an octave higher. "Stupid Capitol, I swear, if this is a trap..." She is muttering to herself darkly and I chuckle. "Hey! Not funny," she snaps. By the sounds of it, she is groping around in the dark, and I can hear the *thunk thunk* as she accidentally bumps two chairs against each other. She grabs my arm in the dark, and then releases it, as if she's been shocked. I try not to smirk at her reaction. Who knows? Maybe she's falling for me.

Haymitch is roaring with laughter as he chokes his words out. "Tunnel...We're... in a tunnel!" he gasps, and I can't help but laugh with him. Katniss seems to be the only one that isn't amused.

She sounds irritated, as she says, "Why isn't the electricity working then?" I can almost picture her eyebrows knitting into a tight V, and I chuckle, earning me a light slap on my arm. God, she's making a habit of slapping me.

My eyes are adjusting to the dark now, and I can see her outline right next to me. Haymitch seems to be lounging casually a bit further away as he waves an airy hand. "Somethin' about electromagnetic fields, science, and who knows what? Who cares? You need to relax a little."

"You're telling ME to relax?" she retorts. "No thanks, I rather be sober and paranoid than drunk like you are."

Somehow, this just causes Haymitch to guffaw even harder.

I barely notice this exchange as I try to ignore the fact that Katniss is standing mere centimeters away from me. I don't know what it is about the dark that makes me feel more conscious of her presence, and I am struck with a sudden urge to move closer and close the gap between us. I can almost feel the electricity zipping through the air between us and wonder if she feels it too.

Suddenly, the light flickers back on and Katniss lets out a breath she had been holding. I study her face and it amuses me. She has a worry line and is frowning, thinking about something. "What are you looking at?" she snaps at me, and sits down on a chair."

I swear I hear Haymitch mutter "Touchy, touchy" under his breath and I laugh.

Katniss puts her fingers to her temple and squints, concentrating hard. "Shoot, I forgot what I was going to ask..." she says, more to herself than to us.

Haymitch pats her on the shoulder, and she shrugs him off, annoyed. "It doesn't matter anyway. One thing at a time! Soon, we will be pulling into the station, where you'll meet your stylists." Beside me, Katniss squirms. "You'll need to let them do whatever they want to you no matter whether you like it or not." Haymitch continues, and I frown. I really don't enjoy the idea of that.

Katniss obviously doesn't either. "But-" she says, about to protest.

Haymitch cuts her off. "Just let them do it. You said you'd listen to me, remember?" He turns to me for support.

I grudgingly admit he's right, nodding my head. After all, if we don't look nice, we won't have any sponsors, and without them there is no way I could keep Katniss alive. She huffs and looks away, running her fingers over her braid.

I walk out of the room to get a glass of water and Haymitch follows me, to my surprise. "She's a bit of work, eh?" he says.

I eye him suspiciously. He is drinking again, but he seems to be more in control. "I guess, yeah, you're probably right."

He doesn't answer me, and I assume he has returned to the dining room. I am about to take a drink of water when his voice startles me, and I slosh water all over myself.

"Tell me, son, why do you want her alive so bad? I've never met a tribute as selfless as you."

I can feel his gaze on my back and take my time in responding. "I don't know..." I shrug. Then, under my breath, I add "Probably because I've loved her since I was 5..."

I whisper it so softly, I don't think he hears it, until he walks out of the room. Stopping at the doorway, he turns around and looks back at me. "Maybe you should let the poor girl know." He looks entirely serious.

I take a drink of water and scoff at his idea. I've barely known her, yet I'm in love with her. How does one explain that? But then again, maybe Haymitch is right. I should tell her of my love before I die in the Games. It'd also be a good way to get sponsors; they're always suckers for a good love story.

My brain is working like a machine now, making up excuses to profess my love for her, but the logical part of me stubbornly refuses to do it. Oh, well. I sigh, and set my glass of water down before heading back to the dining room.

I gasp at what I see. Not inside the train, but outside. Katniss is still sitting in the chair while Haymitch downs a mouthful of wine. She is staring through the window, and I follow her gaze.

We are finally in the Capitol, the glamorous center of everything, and it looks much more ostentatious than I imagined. The people all look so unique, and they all seem to be confident and fine with it. The buildings are a marvel, tens of stories high, and painted in bright, happy colors. A group of spectators stand outside along the railroad tracks, watching us enter the city.

I stride over to the window and begin waving at the people, smiling until my face hurts. It's just a show put up for them, although inside I am seething. These are the people that caused the Hunger Games to happen, and these are the people that are eager to see me die. However, I plaster an innocent look on my face, and try to make a good impression. Hopefully some of these people will choose to sponsor me.

I sense Katniss looking at me, and I shift my weight uncomfortably. Finally, I take a break from waving at the people, and look back at her. She is studying me inquisitively.

I shrug at her inquiring look. "Don't judge! One of them could be rich."

She smiles at me, but then a series of expressions cross her face- confusion, sadness, anger- then her face becomes expressionless and unreadable.

She crosses her arms, and I catch her eyes. They seem to be piercing me with what seems like disappointment and suspicion. What now?


	10. Chapter 10

"Will you just sit still?"

Someone on my prep team, a man with green hair and tattoos around his eyes, snarls at me to stop moving.

I immediately freeze, but before I know it, I'm fidgeting again, while the exasperated team tries to do funky things with my face. After hours of scrubbing, my skin feels raw and exposed and I watch warily as a woman approaches me while holding a long, silver probe.

"I'm Lourdes," she says happily, her purple curls bouncing up and down.

I flinch as she takes my hand, still holding the Unidentified Sharp Object. She smiles at me and says "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." I am hardly reassured by this. "I'm only going to clean your nails," she says in what she seems to think is an encouraging voice.

I open my mouth to argue, but decide against it. Instead, I lean back to watch her stab my nails brutally, cleaning the dirt from underneath them. She has a round face, and like the rest of the residents in the Capitol, she looks quite... interesting. I will never understand the fashion sense of the Capitol, which is just another thing that sets them apart from the rest of Panem.

She gets up and brushes herself off, evidently done harassing my hands. "Sal, I think he's ready, don't you?"

The man with the green hair looks me over and sighs resignedly. "I guess we did all that we could." He presses a button by the door, and it flashes. "Your stylist, Portia, will be here soon. Help yourself to some food if you'd like." He gestures to the table full of treats and sweeps out of the room.

Lourdes sees me looking at the doorway uncertainly, and laughs. "Don't mind him, he's just super grumpy lately." Her expression changes as she sees me eying the food. Unfortunately, she notices my slow migrating towards the food table. "You can eat all you want, but you better not get too dirty again!"

I shoo her away impatiently. "Toodles!" she says, and she's out the door.

The table is filled with everything to satisfy my needs- sugar, sugar, and more sugar. I pass the time sampling all the treats, until I get too bored and go sit on a chair. To my delight, the chair is one of those revolving ones, and I have so much fun spinning myself around childishly to notice the door open and close.

I stop as I hear someone clear her throat. This must be Portia. I sigh as I realize she actually looks rather normal, not kooky and crazy like those stylists I've seen on TV. She has wavy brown hair and light brown eyes, and other than a golden butterfly tattoo on her cheek, she could almost pass as a wealthy District 12 resident.

As she steps into the light, I realize her brown hair is also streaked with red, but it's more subtle and much less ostentatious than Lourdes and Sal's hair. She smiles at me tentatively and says, "You must be Peeta."

I nod, and she examines me. "Lourdes and Sal did a great job with you. How did you like them?"

"Errr..." I say, at lost for words.

She seems to understand what I meant. "Don't worry, Sal seems mean, but he's like that with everyone, and you'll get used to Lourdes." I nod my head up and down, feeling like a bobblehead.

"Alright," Portia says, "Let's go get some food and chat about what you will wear tonight."

I pointedly look at the table of sweets in the room. "Oh," she says hurriedly, "or if you're too full, we can just talk."

I groan with a sigh of relief. If I eat one more thing, my stomach is going to explode. I follow her to another room and sit on a bright orange sofa. She chooses a pink recliner, and pushes a button on its side. Immediately, her lunch pops up, a delicious looking pasta dish.

"So," she begins conversationally, "My partner Cinna and I were thinking about what to do for your costumes." I groan inwardly, hoping it's not another cheesy coal miner outfit. "We wanted it to stand out, and really grab everyone's attention. It needs to represent District Twelve and capture the essence of the place."

"Um," I venture, interrupting her monologue. She looks at me curiously while I ask quickly, "Will the costumes be inappropriate? 'Cause the only things I can imagine that are stunning and unforgettable are quite... mature."

She laughs at me incredulously. "Heavens, no! Something like that would never capture the spirit of District 12. Instead of focusing on the coal, we will be focusing on what we do with the coal- burn it. But don't worry, you won't be burnt to a crisp; I won't allow it." She yells for my prep team to come in.

Hours later, after I have been attacked by makeup, I am dressed in a simple black long sleeve and matching black jeans. On my shoulders, Portia places a cape decorated with orange and yellow. This is obviously supposed to look like fire.

"Now don't worry," she says. "Cinna and I designed a special type of fire that won't harm you at all. Just don't mess with it, and it will look amazing."

I feel my jaw drop. "You're going to light me on fire?"

"No, no, no. Silly boy." she says, brushing my hair out of my face. "I'm just going to light your cape on fire, no worries."

I try not to let the idea of being turned into a Peeta crisp- or pita chip, pardon the pun- bring me down too much, but it's kind of hard to be happy when you're going to be roasted in an hour or two. Portia gleefully leads me over to Katniss's room. She is wearing almost the same outfit as me, and I can't help feeling glad that I'm not going to be the only one cooked alive. I can see the frenzied expression on her face as Cinna explains the cape to her, and I laugh. Did I look that panicked when Portia told me?

"Calm down, sweetheart," Cinna says, exasperatedly, "it WON'T hurt you!"

Katniss catches my eye and we share a sarcastic glance. "Fine, whatever," she says, and sighs.

Before I know it, we are whisked down into the bottom level of the Remake Center, and the opening ceremony is about to start. My palms are sweaty, and I feel foolish in my costume, looking at everyone else's glamorous looks.

Portia pushes me onto the chariot, and I see Katniss being forced on by Cinna. "I'll pull your cape off if you pull mine off," she hisses, and I nod vigorously.

Portia seems to be in a state of panic. "It's almost time, it's almost time!" She runs around panting while Cinna chases her around.

I hear the music begin and know that soon I'll be out in the limelight. I hear Cinna yell something at us as he lights our capes on fire, but I can't hear what he says. Katniss looks just as confused as I do, and even a little scared. I reach out my hand to comfort her, and she takes it, giving my hand a weak squeeze. I smile at her, and then we're out in the spotlight.


	11. Chapter 11

Katniss looks down at our interlinked hands and then looks away. I can't decipher the expression on her face because there is a smile plastered across her face. She seems to be forcing a smile for the crowd, but they eat it all up, screaming her name and jumping up and down. Looking at her, I marvel at how gorgeous she is, with the fire flaring behind her. I make a mental note to thank Portia and Cinna for not burning us to a crisp.  
"I think Cinna told us to hold hands," I say.

She nods her head a fraction of an inch, making sure to keep her regal pose. She looks likes a goddess of fire and seems so calm, but I can tell by the way she's clutching my hand that she's nervous. I interlock my fingers with hers even more and we ride on, holding on to each other for support.

I see our chariot being broadcast on the big screen and gasp in wonder. Cinna and Portia have really outdone themselves and our chariot looks spectacular. The flames contrast with the setting sun, and the camera lingers on us longer than necessary. What we are wearing is an original design, the likes of which have never been seen before, and it's garnering approval from the Capitol residents. Knowing them, the fire theme will probably be very fashionable in a few days.  
I hear someone scream "Peeta!" in a high-pitched voice, and look over. It is a girl who looks to be 15 who is screaming at me and trying to touch our chariot. I smile at her, but feel a stab of resentment. In a few days, she will be screaming my name while I fight to keep myself and Katniss alive.  
I I grow more and more confident as everyone chants "District 12!" We are so popular that it's almost overwhelming. I wonder what my friends back at home are doing right now. They are probably having a celebration, for it's been awhile since our District got a lot of attention. What we're wearing will probably even become a legend.  
I pass many other screaming fangirls, who yell my name and I grin at them. As my confidence increases, I wink at someone, who jumps up and down, yelling in her weird Capitol accent. So this is what it's like to be famous.  
I become aware that Katniss is still squeezing my hand as if her life depended on it. If she squeezes any harder, she will cut off all my circulation! I don't say anything about it, though, because I feel so at ease when supporting her. Her fake smile has been replaced by a genuine one, and set against the glowing fire, she really is a sight to see. I hear someone yell her name, and a rose flies out of nowhere. She catches it and sniffs it while giggling. Since when does she giggle?  
She blows a kiss out to the giver of the rose, and I feel a pang of jealousy. I jerkily look away, the color rising in my cheeks, and she seems to become aware that she's holding my hand. She winces while pulling away, saying "Sorry for squeezing so hard!"  
Immediately, I reach back out for her and tell her that it's okay. As my skin makes contact with hers again, I feel my skin tingle, and it takes all my restraint to ignore the sparks I feel.  
When we finally get to the end of the procession, President Snow comes out. With a head of white hair and sneaky, calculating eyes, he reminds me of a fox. He is wearing a plain black suit with a white handkerchief in his pocket and one blood-red rose pinned to the lapel. He smiles widely at us, but I can't shake off the feeling that his smile is cold, evil, and eerie.

He makes his speech, but I'm too busy examining him to notice what he's saying- something about happiness and Panem. He sounds so insincere, but everyone is holding on to his words, entranced. I look over at Katniss and she is glaring at the president, disgusted, looking like she smells a rotten egg. I smile at her odd expression and am glad that I'm not the only one who thinks this speech is total BS. (a/n excuse the language; I was going to say "bologna", but it just wasn't strong enough)  
Vaguely, I am aware that the cameras linger on me and Katniss more than the other tributes, and I smirk in satisfaction. Set against the darkness of the night, the endless flickering of our costumes seems to draw attention away from the President and the other tributes. The President looks up at us often, probably annoyed that we are such a distraction from his speech.  
After what seems like forever, he finally finishes and faces us.  
This is the first time he's looked directly at us, and I gasp as I see that his eyes are bloodshot, with an evil expression in them. He does not look like a man I want to cross. He nods his head at us, but I can sense that he does it more for show than because he actually respects us. He then shoos us away and our chariot begins rolling towards the entrance of a building.  
Once I am safely inside the tunnel, I am suddenly sapped of all energy. I collapse against a wall, while Portia bustles around me, extinguishing the flames, and complimenting me. The adrenaline high I was riding on all night is slowly fading, and I feel drowsy.  
"You did great, Peeta! You guys looked so magnificent and united and just...wow!"  
"Thanks, Portia." I yawn. "Though it wouldn't be possible without you and Cinna. Oh, by the way, thanks for not burning us up."  
"Oh, Peeta darling, you are too sweet!" She pats my head and leaves. I slump against the wall and sigh.

"Wake up sleepyhead!"  
I open my eyes to see Katniss, laughing at me. "I wasn't sleeping, I was resting!" I scoff.  
She rolls her eyes. "Cinna just finished up with me. Good job, by the way."  
"Right back at 'cha!" I say, winking at her.  
She blushes a deep crimson and winks back- something I've never seen her do- and tugs at my sleeve. "Come on! Let's get into the building."

By the glares of the other tributes we pass, we obviously have outshone them. A girl wearing sparkly silver glares at us before grudgingly saying "You guys looked amazing."  
I look at her curiously before following Katniss down a hallway. She has an angular face, with suspicious, shifty eyes. "Thanks," I say, and catch up to Katniss.  
"Well, I think we make quite an impression tonight," she says to me as she strides down the hall.  
"Yeah, it was amazing... Who knew being a tribute was this exhilarating?"  
She gives me a funny look, and I say, "What? You have to admit, that was fun."  
She just shakes her head and laughs.  
"By the way, you looked gorgeous tonight." I don't know why I said that, but it just slipped out of my mind. I blush and look away from her, embarrassed.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her frown, and then smile mischievously. She comes over to me and lightly touches my arm. "Peeta..." she says.  
I look at her, confused. Without missing a beat, she swoops in and kisses my cheek, leaving it tingling with electricity.  
With that, she runs off to her room. 


	12. Chapter 12

I toss and turn all night in the Training Center, thinking about that kiss. My bedroom is so comfortable, with plush down pillows, but I can't seem to settle down. I am thinking too much, but I can't help it. I put my hand up to my face, where it still tingles, and I imagine I can feel her lips brushing against my cheek again.

I finally get out of bed, and shiver as the sudden coldness envelops me. As if sensing my discomfort, the sleeves of my shirt get longer and thicker until it becomes a sweater. Everything here is so advanced and I feel guilty as I think of my parents huddling around a fire to keep warm. I decide to take a shower to clear my head, and step into the bathroom, which is as big as my room back at home.

There are buttons everywhere, buttons to control the temperature, buttons to control the scents, buttons for all your needs. I have fun messing around with them until I find a setting I like- the scent of warm apple pie in a lukewarm bubble bath.

I climb in and relax, breathing in the smell that reminds me of home. My father loved to bake apple and pear pies during the winter and the bakery would always smell of them. When I was little, I used to always help him, kneading the dough into little strips and criss-crossing them on top of the filling my mother would make. As I grew older, Dad taught me how to frost cakes, and that became my specialty. He always told me that I was more artistic than he was, and during the holidays, I would help him decorate the cakes.

The water is nice and warm, and I feel a little drowsy as I reminiscence. Slowly, my thoughts drift to Katniss. She is so hard to decipher and I wonder if she is using me. One moment, she seems to hate me, and the next, she is flirting with me. It doesn't matter though, because the moment I met her, I became infatuated.

As I realize how sleepy I am, I climb out of the bathtub and press a button that dries my hair instantly. I slump to bed and fall asleep.

I am standing in an open arena, and the earth around me is barren as I look around while clutching a spear. The ground rumbles and a figure pops out of the earth. I swing my spear at it, and it squeals in a voice I'd recognize anywhere.

Katniss is closer now, and I can see her glaring at me as she runs toward me. Her face is blood-streaked, and her hair is falling out of her braid. She looks like a beautiful savage, but she seems to be impatient with my staring. She takes my hand, and I feel her tug at it, already running back in the direction she came from.

"Peeta, come!" she urges, tugging my hand even more insistently.

For some reason, I seem to be rooted in place, and I can't move. I look to the ground and see why- I am tied to the ground by heavy ropes.

She gets on her knees and begins frantically tugging at the them, but they are too strong to yield. She whistles a tune and a whirlwind of dust rises out of nowhere. When the dust finally clears, I see a flock of birds rush at me, and I duck my head in fear.

The attack I was expecting never comes, and when I finally open my eyes, I see them pecking quickly at the ropes. The fibers snap one by one, excruciatingly slowly, and Katniss keeps looking her her shoulder jerkily. I wonder why she's acting so scared.

Suddenly, the ground rumbles yet again, and cracks begin appearing. What seems to be a black cloud of dust appears on the horizon, and Katniss picks up rocks, throwing them at the cloud. I help her as best I can while the birds continue pecking at the ropes. Upon closer inspection, I realize that they are mockingjays.

"Help! Haymitch! Help! Effie!" Katniss screams and begins cursing fluently under her breath.

The cloud of dust comes closer and I see distinct outlines of people now. It seems like a whole mob of people are running towards us. There are so many that the ground seems to wobble.

"Peeta! We have to leave now!" Katniss is crying and sounds hysterical.

Out of nowhere, a helicopter appears in the sky, and Katniss says, "Thank God!", while running toward the ladder hanging out of it. Haymitch is on it, his face looking grim, and Katniss yells, "Peeta is stuck!"

I see Haymitch shake his head sadly. "We have to leave him," he yells back at her, and my heart sinks. The army of people are still getting closer and it feels like I'm in the middle of an earthquake.

Katniss yells, "No!" at him, and turns back to me, her nostrils flaring. Her hair is completely messed up now, but she doesn't seem to care.

"Go, Katniss! Leave me." I say, but she shakes her head and comes stomping back, tugging at the ropes which still haven't unraveled.

Haymitch comes running toward her and scoops her up, apologies written all over his eyes. I nod at him sadly as he runs away with Katniss in his arms, screaming and kicking. I turn my attention back to the rapidly approaching crowd.

They are now so close that I can see their faces. I can't recognize any of them except the face in the middle. He has an evil grin plastered across his face, and his white hair is sticking up like straw- President Snow.

"Hello, Peeta. We've never formally met, I believe. I'm President Snow." His eyes spell deceit and I look at his outstretched hand, disgusted. I spit at it, and his eyes flash.

"Get him." he orders a young girl at his side.

She comes up to me and looks me in the eye. "I'm sorry," she whispers, and I suddenly recognize her as one of the girls who screamed my name in the opening ceremony.

She holds up a dagger and I realize what she is about to do. I close my eyes and wait for the blow to come.

"Up, up, you lazybutts! Time for dinner!" Effie's singsong voice pulls me out of my slumber and I rub my bleary eyes. I vaguely remember having a bad dream, but cannot remember what it was about.

I slip on a comfortable shirt, and walk down to the dining room. No food is on the table yet, and I'm starving. Next to the table, a waiter is dressed in all white, and I turn to him. "When will dinner be served?"

He looks at me sadly, and shakes his head. I don't know why he can't tell me until he tentatively smiles at me and points to his mouth. I suddenly realize that he has no tongue. He is an Avox.


	13. Chapter 13

I avert my eyes from him, trying not to be rude and he turns away, too. I wonder why he had been punished, but communication is forbidden between us and the Avoxes. I hear Effie's distinctive voice coming from down a hallway. Within seconds, she appears in the doorway, with Katniss trailing behind. I look behind me, but the Avox has gone.

He reappears a minute later, breaking the awkward silence between me and Katniss. Effie hasn't stopped congratulating us and it's getting a tad annoying. I try to tune her out, but she prods me insistently. "I bet your district never has had anything so spectacular, aren't I right, Peeta?"

When I don't answer, she pokes me, and I mumble "Mmmhm."

Satisfied, she sits back in her chair and begins talking again. Fortunately, this time her attention is focused on Katniss. I grin as I see Katniss's expression of annoyance.

The Avox comes around with a tray of long stemmed glasses, which I wave away. I try not to meet his eyes as he moves on to Katniss. She stares at the tray for a second before grabbing a glass and I laugh as I watch her take a sip. Her face twists and it's obvious she doesn't like it.

I smirk smugly as I watch her try to down another gulp to seem polite. She sputters and spits it out, gagging, and I'm glad I didn't take a glass. Watching her force down the wine is just too funny. Unfortunately, my fun is interrupted as Haymitch strolls into the room and Katniss sneakily puts the glass down by his plate.

Haymitch seems to have cleaned up a bit; his hair is no longer that scraggly, and his face is clean. He sits down at the table and picks up Katniss's glass of wine, waving to the servers to refill it. Another silent young man dressed in white hastily comes forward and fills it to the brim. Haymitch takes a giant gulp and digs into his food.

The dinner tonight is delicious and the aroma wafting up from the plates make my mouth water. I finish plate after place of roast beef, but more food keeps piling upon my plate, courtesy of the waiters. They move silently to and fro, blending in the background and drawing little attention.

Katniss is prodding her plate with a fork and picks up a piece of beef. She examines it carefully before placing it in her mouth and chewing. She doesn't talk much and I wonder what's on her mind (besides food.)

Cinna and Portia are also talking to each other, no doubt planning their next big thing. Their quiet hum is often interrupted by Effie trying to contribute her own ideas. As no one is talking to me, I try to mind my own business and eat my food in quiet.

A young girl comes up to the table with a beautiful cake and places it in front of Effie. The cake is intricately made, with frosting designs so delicate they look like they were made with a needle and thread. She lights it quickly, and the outermost edge bursts into flames, illuminating her pale skin and fiery red hair.

"What makes the fire burn? Is it alcohol?" Katniss asks the girl, who shies away. "Wait, I know you!" Katniss exclaims, and I see the girl imperceptibly nod her head, her eyes sending out a silent warning.

Effie laughs, "Don't be ridiculous. How can you know an Avox? She's a criminal, Katniss. As if you knew her," she scoffs.

"Even if you did know her," Haymitch says, "You're not allowed to speak to her unless it is to give an order. She is a traitor, and you are to have no communication with her."

As he says the word traitor, I see a flicker of recognition cross her eyes. She knows who this girl is. "Oh, I guess I don't know her?" she stammers, looking down at her plate. Her face is bright red and I immediately jump in to save her.

I snap my fingers and laugh, so everyone looks at me. "I know why she looks familiar! Doesn't she look like Delly Cartwright?" I turn to Katniss. In truth, she looks nothing like the pasty-faced Delly, but that was the first name that popped to my mind.

She nods her head fervently, gratitude in her eyes. "You're right, now that I think of it. It must be the hair," she says.

Cinna laughs, and the rest of the table joins in. The atmosphere lightens, and I see the Avox girl scurry out of the way. I look back at Katniss, but she has already looked away and she is now picking at the rest of her food.

We finish up and are led to the sitting room. Effie hurries us onto the sofas and shows us the replays of the opening ceremony. Many of the other districts have wonderful designs, a few of them earning a squeal from Effie.

When Katniss and I come out, I can't help but gasp. We steal the spotlight, with our capes billowing behind us. Unlike the other districts, we look united and strong, with flames surrounding us. As the ceremony comes to a close, Haymitch congratulates us, talking over the announcer, and I say thank you for the 400th time today.

Katniss and I get up and head back into the hallway. We walk in silence, but something's been bothering me. Who is that Avox that Katniss recognized?

"So, Delly Cartwright, huh?" I ask, my eyes boring in to hers.

She looks down and shuffles her feet. I wait patiently for her answer. She finally looks up at me and sighs, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone is coming.

I look over my shoulder, too, to check for eavesdroppers and realize that it's too dangerous to be talking out in the open. I remember one place that Haymitch says is not bugged, and I turn to her. "Let's go onto the roof and get some fresh air," I say.

She seems to know what I'm thinking and nods, following me up the stairs onto the roof. I step out of the doorway and catch my breath. The sight of the Capitol at night is beautiful, with lights twinkling everywhere. I become aware of Katniss standing behind me, silently enjoying the view.

I turn to her, and gasp silently as I realize how close she is to me. Blinking furiously to clear my head, I smile and say, "Don't even think about trying to jump over the roof. You won't be able to."

She frowns at my teasing and pushes me lightly. "Why?"

I stretch out my hand to show her. As I near the edge of the building, I hear a sharp zap and something invisible throws my hand back. I try to ignore the throbbing in my finger as Katniss mutters, "Trying to keep us locked up."

I remember why we're up here and lightly tug her shirt. "Come on, let's go see the garden." As we near the garden, I can already hear the wind chimes sounding. I pat a spot on the bench next to me and ask her to sit down. The sound of the chimes should cover our words and we can talk without being interrupted. I look at her expectantly.

She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve, which slowly reattaches itself back to the fabric. She looks at a flower and sighs. "We were hunting, me and Gale," she begins quietly, "when we saw her. She was with a boy and their clothes were all tattered as if they were running away."

In my mind's eye, I am imagining it as Katniss saw it, the young redheaded girl and a faceless boy stumbling through the woods. "A hovercraft appeared out of nowhere, and some strange force hauled the girl up. They shot the boy with a spear," she continues, and I shiver. "And the last thing I heard was the girl screaming for help." She breathes out, as if she were deflated.

"That's not too bad," I say, "There was nothing you could do to help her."

She looks down at the ground and she sounds like she is crying, but that is ridiculous. Katniss never cries. "But I'm sure she saw me when she screamed for help, and I didn't do anything. " Her voice is down to a whisper now, and I put my arm around her. At first she shies away, but then she settles in comfortably.

We both think in silence. "Your friend Gale..." I say.

She looks at me expectantly as I try to keep the jealousy out of my voice. "Did he come to see you after the reaping?"

She nods and frowns. "Why?"

I can think of a million reasons why- one of them being that Gale was in the train with us. Instead, I just say, "Just wondering."

She looks at me thoughtfully. "Your dad came to see me, too."

I sit up, surprised. Why would my father do that? "That's strange," I say as she nods.

"Yeah, he gave me cookies," she says, scrutinizing my expression.

"It's because he likes you," I reason. "After all, he knew your mother when they were little."

This time, it is her turn to look taken aback. I stand up and say, "We should go." She nods and wordlessly follows me out. I walk her to her door and hug her. She cautiously returns the hug and I turn around.

"Good night, Katniss." I say.

She looks back at me, her expression undecipherable.


	14. Chapter 14

I sleep soundly that night and wake up to the sun shining in my face. Groaning, I press a button on the nightstand, and the curtains swish closed. I punch my pillow and try to go back to sleep again.

After five minutes of tossing and turning, I finally give up and stretch out. I lie in bed, staring at the swirly patterns on the ceiling and groggily dreaming of home. I finally get up when I hear someone banging on the wall and I realize it's probably Haymitch. He has the room next to mine and always makes so much noise in it. I can just imagine him, stumbling around half drunk, banging into the wall.

I have a slight headache from staying up late the night before, so I head to the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. My head clears up a bit and I look into the mirror, realizing that I look horrendous. I have circles under my eyes and patches on my cheek. I'm hungry, though, so I decide to go down and eat breakfast before cleaning up.

As I head out the room, I slip on the clothes left out for me- black pants, a burgundy tunic, and leather shoes. I feel foolish as I realize I look like one of those childrens' storybook characters.

I meet Haymitch on the way to the dining room and greet him. He doesn't seem to be a morning person, as he addresses me with a gruff "Hello." He is wearing a plaid bathrobe, his eyes are red, and he winces when I talk, so I decide to leave him alone.

When I get down to the dining room, Katniss is already there. We look at each other for a second and she smirks at me with a raised eyebrow as she eyes my bedhead. Then, she takes in what I'm wearing and she frowns. I laugh as I realize we are wearing almost the same thing. I grab a piece of bread and plunk myself down on the chair next to her. I survey her plate piled high with food, and she glares at me, as if challenging me to say something.

Haymitch slurps his stew loudly while talking to us. "Now, first things first. If you guys don't want to train with each other, now would be a good time to let me know."

Katniss frowns at her hot chocolate. "Why would you want to train us separately?"

Haymitch looks at her like she's stupid. "Well, if one of you has a secret talent-"

He is cut off when Katniss and I exchange a look and burst out laughing. I don't have any skills whatsoever, and we all know that she's a good hunter. Nothing secret here.

"Peeta, do you have any skills?" he asks me.

I scoff. "I can bake," I say. "But Katniss, Katniss is amazing at hunting! She can do anything with a bow and arrow."

She looks at me suspiciously. "Well Peeta is also really good. He's just being modest. He's strong and he almost came in first in our school wrestling competition." She slaps the table as she says this and sneers at me.

I don't get it why she seems so volatile and hostile right now, "But how will strength help me in the Games? I have to be close enough to use it for it to work!" I realize that I sound frustrated and try to hold back the edge in my voice.

"Pfft, please," she says, waving an airy hand. She sounds sarcastic.

I don't know why, but this attitude sets me off. I stand up and glare furiously at her and Haymitch. "You know what? It's just not fair. The Hunger Games aren't fair, and Katniss should stop trying to pass me off as someone who's going to win easily. Because you know what? You want to know what my teacher said when she came and visited me? Instead of comforting me, she said 'At least District 12 might have a winner this year.', but she was talking about YOU, Katniss, you! She said, 'She's a survivor, that girl. She's a survivor.' and do you know how that made me feel?"

I finish my rant, breathing heavily. Normally I am not like this, but it must be the result of the stress accumulating. Katniss looks at me sadly and shrinks back in her chair. I can feel something sharp pressing against my throat and I know I am about to cry. I swallow the lump and steel myself as I look back at her shrunken figure.

In a small voice that I can barely hear, she says , "I wouldn't be a survivor if someone hadn't helped me."

She casts her eyes downward and I know she's remembering a particular day back when we were eleven. I was already under her spell on that cold, winter day when she was out hunting for food to feed her family. She must've been digging in our garbage for scraps when I heard my mother snap at someone. "Go somewhere else and find food before I call the Peacekeepers!" she yelled. Our rations were running out and business wasn't thriving. She was in a horrible mood, and I hurried towards her to make sure she didn't do anything too extreme. I ran up the stairs and tried to comfort my mom, massaging her shoulders until she relaxed slightly.

I caught a glimpse of Katniss outside our window and my eyes widened. She had a thin layer of clothing on and she was shivering in the cold, her cheeks red. "It's okay, Mom," I turned back to my mother and patted her back. She slowly walked out the room, grumbling to herself and I looked out the window again. Katniss was there, giving me one long, searching glance before stumbling towards our garbage. She looked at me, as if begging me not to tell Mom what she was doing, and although she looked weak and cold, the fire in her eyes never went out. There was something about this girl that just always seemed to bring out the courage in me. As the smell of freshly baked bread wafted up from the first floor, I realized I had to help her.

I walked downstairs, a plan already forming in my head. I knew I would get in so much trouble, but it'd all be worth it. "Bread's ready!" my mom yelled from somewhere above me, and my dad replied, "I'll get it!"

"No, Dad, it's fine, I'll get it!" I say, and leisurely made my way downstairs. By the time I got to the ovens, I could smell the bread burning slightly. My mom obviously smelled it, too, because within seconds, I could hear her running downstairs.

"Stupid, careless, child!" she scolded me, then slapped my cheek as I mumbled an apology. "Go take the bread out and feed it to the pigs. What a waste of supplies!" She dragged me by the ear to the window in front of the trough and crossed her arms. I slowly opened the window and threw tiny pieces of bread on the ground. When I turned around, my mother had left the room, so I opened the window wide and looked around.

Within seconds, I had located Katniss, crouching low to avoid detection. I quickly threw her the rest of the bread and closed the window, but not before I saw gratitude flash in her eyes. Without the food, she and her family might have died of starvation.

She finally looks up at me, and she seems to be apologizing using her eyes. I shrug and say, "Everyone loves you. They'll be fighting each other to sponsor you."

"You too." She says back to me. "You're just so charming that they will want to sponsor you right away. They probably like you more than me."

I smile. Did she just call me charming?

Haymitch laughs and rolls his eyes at me. "She obviously has no idea the effect she has on people."

I agree drily. Look what she has done to me, driving me crazy, head over heels for her. She just looks confused, and I shake my head in resignation.

Haymitch pushes his chair out from the table and stands up, beginning to walk away. He turns around in the doorway and says, "One last thing- In public, I want you by each other's side every minute."

I open my mouth to protest, and Katniss glares at him, but he says, "No objections," then leaves.

I turn to look at Katniss, who is looking wistfully at me. Just my luck that I will finally get to know the girl I love when I'm sentenced to death.

I go upstairs quietly and get ready for our training session.


End file.
